


Without Words

by thedevilchicken



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Banter, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-06 07:20:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12812487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken
Summary: Obi-Wan can't talk about Kadavo.





	Without Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [serenityabrin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenityabrin/gifts).



There are things that Obi-Wan's position in the Jedi Order makes it difficult for him to discuss. 

Some of those things he might have talked through with his master, had he lived, but Master Qui-Gon joined the Force some years ago. Some of those things he might have spoken about with his old padawan, but Anakin has never listened well. There are others he could talk with, he supposes, but if he's honest - as he tries to be - he doesn't want to say the words out loud. 

As much as they all pretend he was just another captive or a prisoner of war, the truth is for a short time he was a slave. For a short time, he was powerless. And for that time, he nearly lost himself. 

Anakin has his own pain and Obi-Wan won't burden him with his. Mouthing words into the dark as if his master might hear them is just a step or two away from madness. And so he goes to the only one who understands, or else he asks that he comes to him. 

"General," Rex says, when the doors to Obi-Wan's quarters open to admit him. He's standing to attention, but that's for the temple guard in the corridor who's escorted him there. 

"Thank you," he says to the guard, who nods and turns to leave. Rex enters and the doors close. Obi-Wan smiles wryly.

"I'm sorry, Rex," he says. "You know I hate to call you here like this."

Rex takes off his helmet. He sets it on a table by the door and when he looks at Obi-Wan, his brows are raised. He crosses his arms over his armoured chest. 

"With all due respect, Sir," he says, "we both know that's a lot of nonsense."

Obi-Wan pauses. It could look adversarial, he supposes the way that Rex is standing or how he speaks to him, but it isn't. Rex is smiling faintly, if you know where to look. Obi-Wan does.

"Quite right," he says. "I don't regret it at all."

"One day you might."

Obi-Wan nods. "I might," he says. "But not today."

Rex takes off his armour and Obi-Wan takes off his outer robe. He feels almost as naked without it as if he were _actually_ naked, sitting there on the couch once they're done in his linen shirt that's open at the neck and that's loose around his waist and hips without his belt tied there to cinch it in, but that's not to say he minds the feeling. When Rex looks at him, the way he can when they're alone, he doesn't mind. 

Rex doesn't ask what he's been called there for and Obi-Wan doesn't tell him. They just sit, turning to each other, close enough that Obi-Wan's bare foot nudges Rex's knee and he knows that if anyone were to arrive just now it wouldn't look at all like a briefing, or a Jedi general speaking with a clone captain. Rex's thumb rubs Obi-Wan's ankle bone almost like he's not aware he's doing it, but they both know he is. Obi-Wan's thumb rubs at the inside of Rex's wrist, behind the back of the couch where no one could see even if they weren't alone. Obi-Wan wishes he were stronger than he is. Sometimes he wishes he had no strength at all. 

"Is everything prepared for our departure?" he asks. 

"It's on its way, Sir," Rex replies. "We'll be ready by morning."

"Good." He pauses. He stands. "How long do you have?"

"I report to the ship at sun-up, Sir," Rex says, and Obi-Wan knows precisely what that means. He doesn't need to confirm it. They've been here before. 

He holds out his hand and Rex takes it; Obi-Wan pulls him to his feet with a brief nudge of the Force and Rex half-smiles, his palm still pressed to his. 

"I'm going to take a shower, Rex," Obi-Wan says, and he gives Rex's hand a brief, bare squeeze as he walks away toward the fresher. He doesn't have to ask him to follow; he follows of his own accord. 

They undress together, back to back but they're both sneaking glances in the mirror as if they don't already know exactly how each other looks. Then Obi-Wan turns on the water and gets in under the spray, lets it soak his beard down flat as he rakes his wet hair back out of its neat parting. He doesn't need to shower because he showered six hours ago, after sparring with Mace Windu, but that's not the point - the point is when Rex steps in behind him. The point is the anxious twist of anticipation in his stomach as Rex's hands settle at his tight, wet shoulders and squeeze, his fingers rubbing the knots in his muscles into rapid submission. The point is when Rex's hands pause for a moment, going still, before they move down his back. 

No one has ever asked how Obi-Wan got the scars. No one has ever asked why he didn't bathe in a bacta tank to get rid of them or stop them forming in the first place. No one knows the whole story except for Rex, because the Zygerrian guard put the whip in Rex's hands and made him use it. He remembers how it burned, how his vision dimmed except for the yellow glow of the whip, how briefly his only points of focus in the universe were the brights sparks of pain in his skin and the horrified look on Rex's face. He doesn't blame him. It took weeks, maybe months, to make him understand that. He doesn't consider that time wasted. 

Rex's fingertips follow the wide lines of his scars and Obi-Wan sighs though the sound gets lost under the hiss of the spray. He can feel Rex rest his forehead down between his shoulder blades. He can feel Rex press his mouth there, then lower, against his scars, each one in turn. Then he steps up flush against his back, his arms wrapped loosely around Obi-Wan's waist. 

"What now, General?" Rex asks, and his voice sounds as strained as his cock feels against the small of Obi-Wan's back. He doesn't really have to ask, of course - they both know what comes next because this is not the first time. The first thing Obi-Wan wants is for Rex to fuck him, perhaps just in case they're interrupted and they never have the chance again. The war has made soldiers of the Jedi, after all, and the war is what Rex was born for, so it's not without the bounds of possibility that they'll die tomorrow. 

"Don't make me beg, Rex," he says. Sometimes he likes that, how Rex will make him name the things he wants him to do, and sometimes he gives Rex clear instructions just like it's any other assignment except it's not because he didn't order him to come here. The communication is always carefully worded so that Rex doesn't even have to answer if he doesn't want to come, but here he is, soaked, rubbing the head of his cock between Obi-Wan's cheeks, rubbing the head of his cock against Obi-Wan's hole. Obi-Wan doesn't want to talk right now. Rex understands. 

They bodywash that Obi-Wan uses wasn't really meant for this but they know from past experience that it will do if they need it to. Rex pours a little out onto his fingers and Obi-Wan shifts his legs apart as he leans down a little against the shower wall; he shivers when Rex's fingers press between his cheeks, when they rub flat over his hole and then push there lightly. Rex teases just the tip of one finger inside him and Obi-Wan says _Rex_ like it's halfway between a warning and a plea. So he pulls back. He slicks himself. And when he steps back in, it's the head of his cock that pushes against him. It's his cock that pushes inside, inch by inch, in faltering hitches. Obi-Wan clenches his jaw and hisses in a breath through his bared teeth. He knows he shouldn't want this but he does. Neither should Rex, but the stop-start way he moves says he wants it just as much as he does. 

"General," Rex says, and his voice is strained and rough with everything they're doing. Obi-Wan bends back, reaches back with one hand, catches Rex's neck as he turns his head and he's still in him when they kiss, hot and wet and needy. Rex's hands are on him, one slipping over his hip to press at his abdomen and keep him there tight against him and the other tangles in his hair and eases back his head. Obi-Wan's stretched taut from his neck down to his cock. It almost hurts but he doesn't care, not when Rex's hand wraps around him, not when Rex shifts his hips and moves in him. 

"General Kenobi," Rex says, breathless, right by his ear. His fingers move to spread out over his throat, where the water's running. "Orders, Sir?"

Obi-Wan laughs out loud and Rex chuckles and moves, pulls out and drags him down onto his knees. He pushes back in, straight in, balls-deep in one movement, and wraps his arms around Obi-Wan's waist. Obi-Wan rests his head back against Rex's shoulder as he fucks him, slowly, grinding his hips against hip, and one of Rex's hands moves over his throat, moves down, skims his chest, his abdomen, down to his cock. Obi-Wan squeezes his eyes shut. He can hear his own breath even louder than Rex's. Rex's cock inside him feels electric as he squeezes around it and Rex groans, his chest rising and falling against Obi-Wan's back . There's water in his eyes and the ridges of the tiled floor dig into his knees but he doesn't care - he doesn't care about much of anything except how Rex's hips snap against him, how Rex's breath hitches and he pulses as he comes in him, and Rex strokes him, faster, tighter, still inside him, still he comes, too. It's a release. It's a relief. And Rex keeps on stroking him, slowly, lightly, eased by the flow of the water over them, rubbing his thumb over the head and making the muscles in Obi-Wan's thighs twitch with it. He strokes him till he's soft again, and they've both almost caught their breath. 

Rex pulls back. He pulls out. They both stand, not entirely steady about it; they turn to each other and Rex wraps his arms around him so Obi-Wan does the same. He rests his forehead against Rex's shoulder. He holds on tight. 

There are things that Obi-Wan finds it difficult to discuss; he tells himself it's because of his position as a Jedi general, that it's important that he seems composed, and perhaps that's it, in part. But he knows there are things that he just can't say because when they escaped, on the cruiser, on their way back to Coruscant, the only one he's let touch him was Rex. Rex dressed his wounds and he apologised as he did it, again and again, till Obi-Wan stopped his mouth with his. He was as shocked by it as Rex was. That didn't mean they stopped. 

They dry themselves off. They pull on their trousers but leave the rest of their clothes where they are on the fresher floor and they go back into the room except they pause along the way; Rex pushes him up against the doorframe, presses his mouth to the crook of his neck, to his collarbone, his shoulder, sternum, abdomen, navel just above the waist of his loose trousers, then he tosses him over his shoulder and strides back out in the room. Obi-Wan laughs. There are times that he hates to be manhandled, and times when it's the perfect thing to do.

"Do you treat all of your generals this way, Captain?" he asks, smiling, and Rex deposits him on the bed with a bounce.

"I'd hope not, Sir," Rex replies, with a smile of his own as he straddles Obi-Wan's hips. "I think I'd have trouble keeping up with more than one Jedi."

"Oh?" Obi-Wan says, quirking his brows, and he uses the Force to flip Rex onto his back then straddles his hips instead. Rex grins up at him. 

"You're kind of a handful, Sir," he says. "Two of your would wear me out."

"And you don't think one of me can?"

Rex just smiles. He moves his hands over the scars on Obi-Wan's back. He's probably right not to answer; Obi-Wan would probably take it as a challenge. 

They both know Rex has all night, after all - when Rex says he has till sun-up, he means he'll stay the night. They'll share Obi-Wan's bed and in the morning, they'll report to the ship together and maybe they'll steal an hour or two here or there but that's by no means certain. Maybe they'll never have the time again, and so they'll make the most of it tonight. They know precisely how to.

There are things that Obi-Wan finds it difficult to discuss, but Rex was there on Zygerria and then on Kadavo. 

There are things that Obi-Wan finds it difficult to discuss. With Rex, he doesn't have to say a word.


End file.
